“Indeed it could not,” Agatha said.
“Lord Ledger invited me on one of his hunts,” Herman went on. “And the Duke of Ashbourne mentioned a house party.”
“It is marvelous,” Agatha said.
“All these things I have been waiting for. They needed only to see me.”
“It is true.”
“I am a success!” Herman cheered. “Let us go and celebrate!”
He grabbed Agatha’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs. He was laughing with happiness, and Agatha wanted to laugh, too, except that—ugh—he clearly wanted her to lie with him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do just then.
But it was her job. Just as Coral drew the baths, and Mrs. Buckle baked the bread, Agatha had to lie with her husband and grow the occasional baby. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be; for the most part she’d grown accustomed to it. She sometimes even used the time to plot out her weekly tasks and correspondence.
But it wasn’t the way she wanted to celebrate the evening.
She sighed as they entered her room. Danbury was very excited. Maybe he would not last long.
“Up you get!” he said, patting her on her bottom.
“Of course, dearest,” she said. “Let me just change into my nightgown first.”
“No need. We shall do it in your royal gown,” he crowed.
And thus she found herself on her hands and knees on her bed, golden silk rucked up on her back. Danbury was having a fine time, thrusting back and forth. Agatha’s mind was elsewhere, counting her dance partners. Let’s see, first there had been Lord Ledger, then the King, and then she’d danced with Danbury because no one but a husband was brave enough to follow the King.
Then Lord Bute—Agatha suspected that Princess Augusta made that happen—then Danbury’s friend Frederick Basset. Then Lord Smythe-Smith, then Sir Peter Kenworthy, then—
That was odd.
Her husband had stopped.
“My lord?”
She turned her head. She hadn’t thought he was done, but she hadn’t really been paying attention.
“My lord, have you finished?”
He was silent, and heavy on her back. She twisted, struggling under the weight of him, and then he fell over, landing on the floor with a loud thud.
“My lord?” she said again, but this time it was barely a whisper. She crawled to the edge of the bed and looked down. “Herman?”
But there was no reason to say his name. He was flat on his back, eyes wide open.
Dead.
Agatha swallowed. This was . . . She was . . .
Carefully, she edged around her husband’s body and gathered her dressing gown. She wasn’t quite certain what she was meant to be feeling just then.
She moved back to Lord Danbury and nudged him gently with her toe. Just in case.
He was still dead.
Well.
This changed everything.
She looked ludicrous, her purple dressing gown pulled over her ballgown, but nonetheless, she opened the door and poked her head out into the hall. Her maid, Coral, was waiting in a chair a few feet away.
“My lady,” Coral said, rising to her feet. “I have had the upstairs footman bring up water for a bath.”
Agatha nodded. This was their standard procedure. Coral had been with her since before her marriage. She knew that Lord Danbury’s vigor often meant that Agatha needed a warm bath to soothe her skin.
“Thank you, Coral,” Agatha said. She cleared her throat. “Erhm, you need not draw baths as often.”
“Nonsense, my lady. It is quite simple now that we have a full staff. Today I have even had the new housemaid press lavender oils. It smells divine, and I’m told it makes the skin less ashy—”
“Coral,” Agatha said.
Coral blinked.
Agatha spoke slowly and clearly. “You need not draw baths as often.”
Coral’s eyes went wide. She inched forward. “My lady,” she whispered. “We are done?”
Agatha stepped aside and allowed Coral to peer into the room. “We are done.”
Coral sucked in a breath, then held up a finger for silence. With a careful click, she closed the door.
Agatha could hold it in no longer. She let out a tiny shriek of joy and threw her arms around the other woman. Together they did a little dance, jumping up and down, then scooting to the side because good heavens, Lord Danbury was still on the floor, and yes, this was undignified and probably amoral, but she was free!
Agatha Danbury was finally free.
Coral pulled back, her eyes shining. “Do you want to change first?”
“No, I think— Well, I suppose I should not have the dressing gown.” Agatha allowed Coral to pull it off her shoulders and set it back in its place on a chair.
“Are you ready?” Coral asked.
“I am,” Agatha said. She was. She really was.
“Good luck. I shall be back in my chair.”
Agatha nodded and shut the door. She counted to three, giving Coral enough time to return to her post, and then she screamed.
Good heavens, she had not known she could make such a sound.
“Help! Help! Oh no! Help!”
The door flew open. Coral appeared to be in full panic. “Oh, my lady!” she yelled. “What has happened?”
“It is Lord Danbury!” Agatha cried. “I think he is—”
“No!” Coral exclaimed. “Oh no!”
“My love!” Agatha sobbed. “Oh, my love!”
The hall quickly filled with footmen and maids, most still in their evening uniforms.
“Something has happened to Lord Danbury,” Coral said. “Henry, you fetch the doctor. Charlie, wake his valet. Do it now!”
“He is gone!” Agatha wailed. “My love is gone!”
Coral turned back to the rest of the staff, still gathered in the hall. “Wait here. I must make sure everything is dignified for my lady, and then you can come and help.”
She poked her head into the room and gave Agatha a look.
Agatha sobbed anew.
“We must remove you from the room,” Coral said. “You cannot remain here with his lordship’s body.”
“Noooo! Noooo! I must stay with him. I must!”
“Come with me, my lady.” Coral took her arm and led her out, past all the servants, gazing upon her with compassion. Agatha felt a twinge of guilt at deceiving them all this way, but certain façades had to be upheld.
“I shall take you to the guest room,” Coral said.
“What will become of me?” Agatha whimpered. “What will become of us? My children . . . my children . . .”
“Come, my lady, come. The others will see to the doctor when he arrives.”
Agatha nodded tearfully, and she let Coral take her to a guest room.
“I will fetch you something else to wear,” Coral said, once Agatha was settled.
“Yes.” Agatha was still in her golden gown. Herman had called it her royal gown. It was beautiful. Exquisite, really, and it looked gorgeous on her.
But she wasn’t sure if she was ever going to wear quite that shade of gold again. She wanted to choose her own colors. She wanted to choose her own gowns.
She wanted to choose her everything.
Danbury House
Lord Danbury’s Study
Several hours later
Agatha had been wandering the house for nearly an hour. She wasn’t sure why, except that she wasn’t tired, and she felt so odd, and it somehow seemed like she ought to look at her late husband’s things.
His relics.
He had been a relic.
But the house was new. Its walls held no memories. That was a good thing. It would be hers. Not his.